Date: Thu, 17 Feb 2011 19:24:16 +0000
From: Jeffrey Fletcher
Subject: Inky White and I Chapter 4.
This is a story that involves sex between males. if such a story is
offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue,
go and surf elsewhere.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific
person or persons. If there is any similarity to any real persons or
events it is entirely coincidental.
The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any
form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned
to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it
may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written
permission of the author.
My thanks to Brian who have read this through and made a number of
corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors, grammatical, spelling
or historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
Resume:- Phil Goodman, the narrator, has made contact with an old school
friend after a gap of about thirty years. He is continuing to remember his
earlier days as a student. But Phil is telling his own story, continuing
an account of his life as a student at Manchester University.
Inky White and I Chapter 4.
While those events were taking place for me up in Manchester important
things were happening back in Maidstone.
Half way through the second week of term, I received a letter from my
mother.
Dear Philip,
Thanks for your letter. We were all pleased to hear your news, and that you
appear to have settled at the University in Manchester. Now for some big
news for you. Last week, your father was summoned up to the Head Office in
town. He was not told what it was about, just that he was to be there at a
certain time to see the Managing Director. The long and short of it is, he
is being promoted, and will be taking over the Western Division of the
Company. This will involve a move to Bristol for us all. Naturally we are
all pleased for him, as it is a real recognition for all his hard work. It
will also mean a large increase in his salary, which will be more than
useful with the three of you children being increasingly expensive. It will
be a real wrench for us all to move to pastures new, away from Maidstone
where we have so many friends. The firm want him to start work down there
next week! And they want us to move down there as soon as possible, not
long into the New Year. They have asked us to say what sort of house we
require and our price range, and they will provide us with a short list of
five places for us to look at. If we do not like any of them, they will
draw up another list. So it is going to be a hectic autumn. I have already
told the committee of the Town's Women's Guild that we are having to move
away. Otherwise we are all well, and all of us send our love. Mother.
I rang home that evening to congratulate Dad, and to get the latest
news. It was a truly hectic autumn for them back in Maidstone. They very
much liked one house on the first list they inspected, and from then on the
company's lawyers got what usually takes an age, to occur at break-neck
speed. My parents decided to move in mid-December, rather than risk
deteriorating weather in January.
I was summoned back for a weekend to sort my things out. I got the
necessary permission, and was back in Maidstone from a Friday evening until
early the Monday morning. It was a question of throwing a lot of unwanted
things away, and hanging on to some sentimental things, like a few of my
childhood toys and books. The rest, the clothes and books that I wanted to
keep, all had to be packed.
It was possible for me to make two visits. I popped round to see Inky on
the Saturday evening. We had exchanged two or three letters, so we were up
to date with most of each other's news. We were able to talk alone
together, but as his parents were in the house we could not do anything
other than give each other a good hug and brief kiss. I filled him in on my
latest news about Bob, and described in detail our Friday night activities
at the cellar or at his friend's.
He had been round to Godfrey's several times, but Godfrey and Adrian had
decided to live together, and would be buying a house in Canterbury, which
was about half way between where they both worked. His other item of news
he told with some embarrassment. There was a girl in his office a couple of
years older than he, and he was going to take her to the pictures next
week. I enquired further, but he would not tell me much more than that she
was good looking, and her name was Brenda. I was surprised.
I rang Godfrey, and called round to see him briefly on the Sunday
evening. He repeated the news that I had already heard from Inky. He asked
a lot about University life, and I told him about Bob.
"I'm so glad you've found someone. I hope all goes well with you."
When the train pulled out of Maidstone early on the Monday morning, I
thought more than just a chapter of my life was closing. I was only to
return to Maidstone once more.
At the end of term it seemed strange to be going home to a house I had
never seen. I liked the house, but it was a chaotic rush unpacking and
getting ready for Christmas. There was one room, with a stack of unpacked
boxes, and there were regular occasions when we needed something that was
in one of those boxes. Fortunately, my father had insisted that each and
every box was properly and fully labelled.
Christmas and the New Year came and went, and soon I was making my way back
to Manchester. I had sent a letter to Bob, suggesting that we met just for
a quick drink on the Tuesday evening of my return. We exchanged news, and
arranged to meet on Friday at the usual time and place for a cellar
evening.
It was about one in three evenings that we were able to have the use of his
friend's apartment. I think we were both beginning to find the restrictions
frustrating. We usually began with a drink, kissing and cuddling in the
sitting room, but we were both unhappy to take things too far there, as it
was so much his friend's room and neither of us felt relaxed. We both felt
more at ease in the bedroom, but a narrow single bed has its limitations.
One Friday evening about mid-term, when we were at the friend's, I think
both of us had nearly fallen off the bed. We were lying alongside each
other, which meant that I was partially on top of Bob, after we had both
climaxed.
"I have had a couple of thoughts," announced Bob.
"Good, I'm pleased to hear you're not all muscle and cock."
He nudged me so that I nearly fell off the bed again.
"I'm glad we have this place, where we can be alone together. But it isn't
ideal, is it?"
"No. So what's your bright idea?"
"My folk have a house near Harlech in North Wales. Is there any chance of
us both going away there for a few days over your Easter Vac? It can't be
over Easter weekend itself as my parents always go there for a week, but
there are probably a few days before or after that when we could have the
place."
"Would they be happy you having me there?"
"As long as they think it is just a friend, and not a student, especially a
student from their Hall, they will be fine."
"Sounds great to me. Sleeping together. If it can be arranged, I'm all for
it. And what was your other idea?"
"This is more long term. For some time I have been thinking of buying a
place of my own; of getting away from parental and University
restrictions. They cramp my style. So if I buy a place, what about shacking
up together for the next couple of years?"
"I think its a great idea, but I shall have to think about it carefully.
Our time in Wales will show whether we can get on domestically. As you know
I am working hard, and I wouldn't want it to prejudice that at all."
"I respect that. I am sure we could draw up some ground rules."
"We can talk about it more in Wales. Whether you join me or not, I'm going
to start looking for a small house, not too far from Uni."
x-x-x
We went off to Harlech for a few days at the end of the winter term. I told
my parents I was going away for a few days walking with a friend in North
Wales, which was true.
We arrived in Harlech just as it was beginning to get dark and it was
beginning to rain. Bob turned off the main road, up an extremely steep lane
that twisted and turned for a about a mile. His parent's house stood alone
just off the lane. It was not very big, just three small bedrooms, one of
which managed to contain a double bed and little else in the way of
furniture, but that would fulfil our requirements. Downstairs consisted of
a small kitchen, and a sitting room with an open fire.
"Two things immediately to do, " said Bob. "One, is light the wood fire,
there is plenty of wood there, and masses more outside. Second, get some
grub."
"I'll light the fire. You get the food, as you know where everything is."
Within half an hour we were sitting down on the sofa with trays on our
knees, eating a good meal in front of a blazing fire, and the room was
beginning to warm up. After the meal neither of us felt like doing the
washing up, so the trays were taken out of sight into the kitchen. Bob put
on some music, and we sat and cuddled on the sofa.
"Four days together," I said.
"Yes, four days and four nights." He lent over and kissed me on the nose.
"No need to hurry as we always do on a Friday."
"Exactly. We can do what we like, when we like. We can even stay in bed all
day tomorrow."
"I'd like to see a bit of this part of the world, as I have never been to
Wales before."
"No problem."
We spent long intervals in silence, watching the wood blaze away, and only
getting up to put more on the fire. Our cuddling got closer and more
intimate, clothes were loosened as hands wanted to feel. At some stage, we
lowered ourselves onto the floor. Our love making was slow and gentle. Our
garments gathered one by one on the sofa behind us.
"I want to get inside you, Phil."
"I thought you were getting close to making that request." I reached up and
felt into my pile of clothes, and found my trouser pocket, and removed a
new tube of KY jelly. "I thought we might be needing this."
"I brought one too, but mine is still packed upstairs."
"You obviously weren't a Boy Scout – Be Prepared."
"No, my parents didn't approve of the scouts, I never joined."
"I did my statuary few years." I prepared my arse. Bob took the tube from
me and prepared his cock. "How do you want me?"
"Let's try you kneeling up on the sofa and I'll come behind you."
I got into position and soon felt his cock touching my entry. I always love
that moment, I think my anus twitched with eager anticipation. The pressure
mounted, and his cock slowly sunk into me. I felt filled. His hands grasped
my hips.
"Oh, that feels so good, Phil. My cock feels at home."
"Good, because he is welcome to stay for as long as he likes."
Bob remained still while the first thrill of entry subsided, then he began
to move. He varied his movements in a way he had never done before. He, not
only thrust in and out, but he rotated his hips so varying the pressure
from his cock.
"This is a good position. I don't know why we've not done it this way
before."
"Because I'm standing with just my cock in you I'm free to move more."
His hand reached round to get hold of my cock.
"You're producing a mighty load of pre-cum."
"Shows how much I'm enjoying this."
I don't know how long all this went on, with periods of movement, and then
stillness. It must have been some time, as Bob turned round and saw that
the fire was beginning to burn low. I was warm on the sofa, fairly curled
up, but Bob as noticing the absence of heat on his back.
He increased his movements. Then he pushed harder than ever and I pushed
back, there was no way he could penetrate me any further. He stood still,
and I felt his cock jerk and his hot cum jet out into me.
"Did you cum, Phil?"
"No."
"Want to fuck me, or me suck or toss you off?"
"No. That was the best fuck I've ever had. I just want to hold it. There is
plenty of time for me to shoot my load, all tonight!"
Bob slowly withdrew his cock, and I felt empty. I turned, and we had a face
to face cuddle with many kisses.
"Thank you, Phil. That was special for me, too. If these few days are as
good as they've started, we're in for a good time. Shall we go to bed?"
"What about the washing up?"
"Fuck that, we can leave that until the cold grey light of morning."
We made the fire safe, and grabbing our clothes, we went upstairs. We paid
quick visits to the bathroom to pee and clean our teeth, and we were soon
in bed. As I have said, Bob was slightly taller than me, and we adopted
what was to become our usual going to sleep position; with my back to his
front, with his hand against some part of me, often holding my cock and
sleepy kisses on my neck.
I cannot remember who woke first in the middle of that night. I remember
that the gusting wind was beating the heavy rain against the window. When
each of us realised the other was awake, we started cuddling and
kissing. We were warm and that bed seemed to make us more intimate with the
sound of the rain.
"I want you to fuck me, Phil, and please take as long about it as you
possibly can."
"I'll try."
We both managed to prepare ourselves without getting too cold, as the tube
of lube had been placed near at hand.
"I think doggie or jockey will be too cold, don't you?" said Bob.
"Yes, so let's try with you on your side."
My cock slid easily into Bob. I held myself still for quite a while, as
experience had taught me that movement made me cum too quickly at that
stage in proceedings.
I think I was fucking Bob for a long while that night. Sometimes I kept
still, sometimes one or the other, or both of us would be making small
movements, but both of us careful not to push ourselves or the other over
the edge. Sometimes we talked, not seriously, but those little words of
endearment that seem so wet when written down. I came, and we both fell
asleep. My last memory was of my cock half flaccid but still in Bob. At
some time it must have come out, because when I woke mid morning we were
turned the other way and Bob's arms were holding me, and it was still
raining.
When we looked out of the window we were in the clouds and could barely see
fifty yards. We stayed in doors the whole of the day. We sat by the fire,
we read, we listened to music, we played chess and dominoes; all
accompanied by the sound of rain beating against the windows and the wind
roaring in the chimney.
We went to bed early, and had a long session of love making.
We woke the next morning to the now over-familiar sounds. Yes, it was still
raining and the gale was blowing. Mid morning, we decided to venture out
and walk down into Harlech for coffee, and to patronise the very good cake
shop which was there. We put on our waterproofs and set forth.
We were definitely more than just damp when we returned later. We had to
change completely. The wood fire had almost gone out, but some care soon
had it burning brightly again. The rest of the day was much the same as the
one before.
Our incarceration for two days in that house gave us an opportunity to
talk. We talked over two things.
Bob sounded me out further about him buying a house, and the two of us
living together. My fear was that living with Bob might prove detrimental
to my studies. We talked at length. We agreed that though we would
definitely sleep together we would not spend hours making love together. We
agreed that we would share the household chores, but I would need to spend
time alone studying. Bob suggested if he bought a small two bedroom
terraced house, of which there were many near the University, it would be
good as a starter home for him; then the small second bedroom could be our
office, my study, where silence was expected to prevail.
We also discussed the nature and extent of our relationship. We were both
very committed to each other, and neither of us had gone with anyone else
since we had met. We agreed that this should continue. More difficult was
discussing what was likely to happen when I graduated. My plans were very
indefinite. A lot would depend on what sort of degree I got, and where I
found work. We agreed that our commitment to each other was until I
graduated, and then we would review things.
We also agreed, as we had got on well when largely confined to the house,
we would continue to get on living together when we would not be in each
other's pockets so much.
When we went to bed, the gale was still blowing full force, with no sign of
abating. Again, we enjoyed each other to the full. Though we had gone to
bed at eight o'clock, it was gone eleven, when the night-light which Bob
had romantically lit when we went to bed eventually gutted out.
"I do believe the wind is dropping," were Bob's final words before we fell
asleep.
We woke early. There was a bright light outside, birds were singing, and
there was no sound of wind. I leapt out of bed and pulled the curtain
aside. The greys of the previous days had gone. The grass was green, there
were bright yellow flowers on the gorse, and you could see in the distance
the blue sea of Cardigan Bay, and beyond that the hills of the Lleyn
Peninsula stretching away to the right, and very far off the distant
Bardsey Island. On the left you could just see part of Harlech Castle. I
gasped with surprise.
Bob stirred. "What is it?" he asked sleepily.
"The view, and the sun is shining. Come on, up you get," I pulled the bed
clothes off him.
He protested, and we had a short wrestle on the bed, before turning to
attend to our hardening cocks. We had the quickest love making of our stay
there. Breakfast was eaten.
"Phil, I'm going to take you up Roman Steps in Cwm Buchan."
"Where's that?"
"Not far away."
We breakfasted, and then went in the car up into Cwm Buchan. There wasn't a
cloud in the sky, everywhere was sparkling and bright. We put our boots on
and walked. Roman Steps are definitely not Roman, but they are steps. Great
stone steps making a path up a narrow defile to a pass over the Rhinog
mountains. The stream alongside the steps was in full spate. There were no
other walkers around, so we had the place to ourselves. For most of the way
we could not walk two abreast, but when we could, we held hands.
"Why can't two men always hold hands?" asked Bob.
"I know. Holding hands with you is the most natural thing in the world. We
couldn't do this on the streets of Manchester, we can only show affection
in places like the cellar."
We got to the top of the pass, and could see the view into the valley
beyond. We found a spot away from the path which was in the sun and out of
the slight breeze that was blowing up there. We put down a waterproof to
sit on and ate the food we had brought. Then we lay back, but not for long.
Bob's hand came wandering in my direction. He stroked my ear and neck. Then
he moved so we could kiss.
"I'm feeling horny, Phil. I want to celebrate this day and this place by
fucking you."
"Haven't you fucked me enough these last few days?"
"No I haven't, I'm hard and desperate."
"And I'm hard, too." I pulled his hand down onto my cock.
"I'll give that a nice suck first."
"Do you expect me to strip off?" I asked.
"No. Just bare your bum, so I can get my cock where it wants to be."
The air was cold on my naked posterior, but it soon felt warm when Bob was
in me, and his movements soon warmed us both. It was certainly not the
longest fuck of our holiday, but it was the most memorable.
After we had made love, and got properly dressed, we lay back again and
dozed. We were both loathe to leave that place, and to begin our return to
the car. The next day we returned to Manchester, and I went on to my new
family home just outside Bristol.
XXX
During that summer term, Bob did buy the house. He spent a lot of time over
the summer getting it decorated. I went up and worked at it for ten days in
August, sort of camping out in the house. Together we got a lot of work
done, and we allowed ourselves one short love making session a day. We set
up home together two days before the start of term. What we had arranged in
Harlech was put into operation, and went well. I worked hard, very hard. My
Prof. made increasingly encouraging noises, and eventually said that if I
got a good degree and was interested, there would be research opportunities
for me, that would involve a further three years in Manchester. Bob greatly
liked that idea!
Events were not standing still for Inky. It was during my undergraduate
years at Manchester that we drifted apart.
After our meeting in late November of my first year, we continued to write
regularly. He told me how he had taken Brenda to the cinema, and how she
made sure her leg was against his, and at one stage put her hand high up on
his thigh. "Of course, I got a mammoth hard on, and I think she knew I
had. We are going again next week."
His next letter says what happened that time. "We went to the pictures
again. It is a nice break from studying every evening. Brenda is also
studying, but she is a couple of years ahead of me, being slightly
older. This time her hand was on my thigh for almost the whole of the film!
Same result as last week, and I think a big damp patch on the front of my
trousers! After the film she invited me in to her place for a coffee. I
realised where this would probably lead, and it did. She has a small
apartment, very small in fact. I sat on the sofa. She went off to make some
coffee, and at the same time changed into a very revealing low cut blouse!
She was showing the whole of the top of her boobs. I had never realised how
boobs were so sexy. She brought in the coffee, and sat alongside me. We
never drank the coffee. Her hand was straight away high on my thigh
again. 'You're a very attractive young man, you know.' I told her I was
very inexperienced when it came to girls. 'I could tell that. Perhaps that
adds to your attractiveness. Are you a virgin?' I was quite shocked at the
bluntness of her question. 'And I think you are not averse to losing your
virginity?' I think I went bright red. She got hold of my hand and placed
it on one of her boobs. Wow, I found it fuse-blowing! She was feeling my
cock, and pulled down my zip. 'Go on feel them properly.' She undid the
front of her blouse, showing me the whole of her tits. She pulled out my
cock. 'What a wonderful big one. I know where I'd like that.' 'Really?' I
muttered in husky voice. 'Yes, and why not now.' She grabbed hold of my
hand and pulled me up, gave me a kiss, our first kiss, and led me into the
bedroom. The rest is history as they say. I'll not describe in detail the
wonderful time."
Inky's next letter came three or four weeks later.
"I am moving in with Brenda. The parents were a bit shocked, but I think
relieved that I'd got a girl friend at long last. Her parents were more
relieved that this move showed signs that she was settling down. She said I
seemed to be very experienced for a virgin, so I had to tell her that I had
done things with boys when I was at school. Her reaction was to laugh, and
say that she would soon convert me from that sort of thing! Life is just
wonderful. Phil, my friend, you must go with a girl sometime; I am sure
you'll never look at another man in the same way again."
I thought about it. After all I am a student and should be open to all
possibilities. I soon came to the conclusion that women had no sexual
attraction at all for me. I also talked the whole thing over with Bob. He
had gone one stage further than me, and tried to have sex with a woman but
he could not even get to square one, he could not get it up!
Over the next eighteen months, the intervals between letters got longer and
longer. It was not just Inky was slow in replying, I was too. I felt that a
great chasm had opened up between us. Perhaps after all our friendship had
been totally based on sex, from that moment when my hand had plunged into
his trousers. But there was a side of me that thought his cock was being
wasted, satisfying a woman when it could have been a man, or men.
It was at the start of the autumn term of my last year that I got a letter
from Inky.
Dear Phil, I have been and gone and done it. I have put a bun in Brenda's
oven, to put it very crudely. She was on the pill, but had been over to the
States for a week, mainly working with and for one of the directors. In the
mix up of travelling, different surroundings, time zones and so on she
missed a couple of the pills. The result is that she has caught on and is
now pregnant. I am going to be a father, just think of that! We had already
discussed getting married, and were planning on getting engaged at
Christmas, married eighteen months later, in the summer, and starting a
family two or three years after that. Everything is being brought
forward. We are getting married in six weeks, on 28th November, and I am
writing to ask you to be my best man. Please, Phil. Brenda and I are both
pleased about all this. It has meant a change of plan, but we do love each
other, and we are both looking forward to our baby's arrival.
The rest of the letter was full of details of their buying a house, with
considerable parental aid.
So it came about that I paid my last visit to Maidstone. I went down the
day before, and had a long talk with Inky the evening before in his local
pub. He had had a stag night the week before. He told me much more, and
very graphically, about his relationship with Brenda. I knew quite well he
was trying to encourage me to dip my toe, or should it be my penis, into
the heterosexual waters. They were duly married at St Michael and All
Angels Church. Brenda did not look pregnant. Though I only saw her on her
wedding day, and did not really get to know her, what I saw of her I
liked. I came away thinking that Inky had got a very nice girl indeed. They
looked very much in love, there was no feeling that it was a shot-gun
wedding.
In July I received a card telling me of the arrival of a baby girl, Sharon.
I think that thereafter, I received a couple of Christmas cards from
Inky. Our paths through life had parted. There was silence until I read the
word inkywhite among Jeff's notification addresses thirty or so years
later.
X-x-x
As I had made contact with him again, I had to reply to his email.
Dear Inky, Thanks for replying. I am living at the other end of the
country. I am a professor at Exeter University. I had a post down in
Plymouth for several years. I have been doing this job for ten years now. I
have a delightful house within easy commuting distance of work, on the edge
of Dartmoor. I have never married, in fact never given that possibility a
thought. I am absolutely 100% gay. I read a naughty Nifty story on my
laptop last thing at night whenever I am sleeping alone. Am I correct to
presume that the 'our' in your email refers to Brenda and yourself? These
days one has to be careful and I hope I am being tactful in asking that
question. I remember you had a daughter, Sharon. Did you have any more? For
how long have you been reading Nifty stories? Your old friend Phil, PS If
it is Brenda, give her my love, if you can do that without revealing what
you may not wish to reveal!
X-x-x
My three years as an undergraduate drew to a close. There was all the last
minute swatting for the exams. Bob was very supportive, taking on all my
chores for about six weeks before finals.
All finals students had a viva-voce examination, when you were questioned
by two members of the department staff and an external examiner. The
external examiner was a Prof. from Oxford. I was not asked any questions
that really taxed me until the end. My Prof turned to the Oxford Prof and
asked if he had any further questions.
"Yes, just one." He asked a question that was not within the syllabus. My
Prof started to speak, but the visitor just raised his hand to stop him
continuing.
I was surprised at the question, but it so happened that some three or four
months before in my reading I had diverted and spent an hour reading about
the area of the question. I was able to answer with a modicum of knowledge,
and went on to say what further I would like to find out.
The external examiner just said thank you, and said that he had no further
questions.
Three hours later, the results were posted on the results board. I had got
a first.
When I got home and told Bob he was even more ecstatic than me.
"Have a shower, get changed, we are going out for a slap up meal, with
champagne and then paint the town red. No driving - all by taxi. Three more
years together!"
But it was not to be.
XXX Jeffrey at jeffyrks@gmail.com